


Abernathy's Cornucopia

by Grace_d



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Language of Flowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grace_d/pseuds/Grace_d
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is a busy woman. Running your own boutique wildflower supply business is no easy task. She doesn't have time for messing around, or men, or messing around with men, especially ones who are messing with her business.When Peeta Mellark takes over Haymitch Abernathy's flower shop, he's a little out of his depth. It turns out there's a lot more to this floristry gig than he first expected.Hopefully a silver eyed supplier can give him some pointers.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy & Katniss Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen & Primrose Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 30
Collections: The Hunger Games 2019 Season of Hope Holiday Gift Exchange





	Abernathy's Cornucopia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melacka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/gifts).



When the first slight odd flower order comes through, Katniss isn’t particularly concerned. Haymitch is prone to laziness, occasionally hitting the repeat button as opposed to planning out what his small floristry business needs. She has enough Iris’s still blooming in her greenhouse to fulfill his request, so she shrugs, hits accept, and thinks no more of it. There’s so many other things to worry about. 

While running her own business has gotten more routine over the years, it hasn’t necessarily gotten easier, the combination of an ever-tightening economy and Katniss’s own inability to say this is enough. It never was. There was always Prim’s tuition loans to pay off, a broken irrigation system in the greenhouse, a worker off sick. And somewhere, in the back of Katniss’s mind, and in the measly savings account she squirreled away, the dream to move out of the shed. 

The shed had been Katniss’s home since her father died, with her mother and sister, in the hard times while the wind crept in through the poorly sealed windows, their mother stuck in that awful ghost state, faded away like her departed husband. Eventually, Prim had moved on, to university and medical training, and so had their mother, claiming she only felt underfoot as Katniss single handedly established a business that their father had always joked about starting, Jack Everdeen telling stories over dinner of how he’d break free from the mines, and spend every day in the fresh sun, a different kind of dirt under his fingernails. 

Now, Katniss felt she could name every nail in the little shed in the corner of field of cultivated wildflowers, had at some point or another, traced her fingers over every wooden panel and sworn at the splinters. It’s not much, this little time capsule of Katniss’s life, and she's soaked in her work and her family history in a way that hurts. So the savings account slowly grows, in fits and bursts, until the irrigation pipe goes again or someone declares balloons the new florals and the orders drop until the trend rides out. 

Luckily wild and organic was in for hipster weddings, and florals in general, and her payments got a few more small deposits. 

Haymitch’s next invoice payment comes through on time. Another erratic gesture. Getting coin from that old bastard could be like getting blood from stone. 

Then the next order is a repeat, exactly the same as the two orders prior to it, when clearly the spring bulb season was over. 

_You’ll get dahlias instead._ She emails back. 

She’s in the greenhouse with Thresh, carefully planting out rows of seeds when her phone chimes. She pulls it out, eyes narrowing at the short response from Abernathy’s Cornucopia. 

_Thank you._

Katniss frowns at her phone. In the ten years since she showed up in his loading dock, a bucketful of ragged wildflowers in her arms and a hungry sister at home, Haymitch Abernathy has never once said thank you. 

She calls the shop after the Undersee wedding order confirmation comes through, completely different from what they discussed, and she started planning for, four months ago. 

“Hello, Abernathy’s Cornucopia,” an unfamiliar but warm voice answers, “how can I make your day?” 

Katniss snorts. That’s the lamest thing she’s ever heard. “I need to talk to Haymitch.” 

“Haymitch is unavailable,” the guy continues, “but I’m sure I can help you instead.” 

“No thanks, just need to speak to Haymitch.” Katniss says, “Tell him it’s Katniss.” 

She waits a beat, hears a muffled “I’ll be with you in a second” from his end. 

“He’s not here, I’m sorry, but I assure you I can assist you with anything you need.” The man says. 

“The Undersee wedding order, it’s been changed.” 

“Oh,” the man says, “Arrowhead Organics. The wildflowers. Yeah, the bride came in yesterday-“ 

“Hold up.” Katniss interrupts. “You let a bride change her order a week out from her wedding?” 

“She had some concerns-“ the guy continues. 

“Of course she did. She’s about to make the biggest mistake of her life.” Katniss rolls her eyes. “Those flowers, however, were not part of that mistake.” 

She’s met by silence. 

“Call them back. You’re getting charged for the flowers either way.” Katniss says, and hangs up to the sound of spluttering. 

She shoots Haymitch another email. 

_The new guy’s a moron._

She doesn’t get a response, but she doesn’t exactly expect one. 

* * *

She doesn’t know possesses her to push her way into Abernathy’s Cornucopia the next day, the way Haymitch runs his business is certainly none of hers, but go into the little shop she does. She was driving by anyway and noticed the daffodils. They’re wilting on the steps in the direct morning sun. It’s depressing, which is saying something, against the chipping black paint on the old shopfront. 

The door chimes softly, barely audible underneath indie folk music playing in the shop. It’s a song from one of her own playlists, and definitely not Haymitch’s taste. As she looks around, she can see changes to the crowded, dark shop interior. The biggest of which is the guy sitting on a stool in front of the counter. Only his wild blonde hair visible from Katniss’s angle, as he curls ribbons around a bouquet for the young girl that stands before him. 

Katniss steps behind the antique table in the centre of the shop, loaded with buckets of flowers, and looks around. A large arrangement sits in the front window, draped asymmetrically out of a gold vase, like something from an old Dutch painting. It’s gorgeous, tall drooping bluebells and elegant purple ranunculus offset by eccentric orange poppies and an unexpected branch of mandarins. Katniss peers closer, realising some of the drooped blooms might not be on purpose, as the spilling arrangement seems completely structurally unsound. 

She’s distracted by the sound of the man’s loud laugh filling the space. Katniss peeks in between the bunches of flowers in time to see the young girl give the man a handful of change, and a hug, before she runs out the door, a huge bouquet in hand. Katniss steps out from behind the display. The man jolts in surprise, rising up from the stool. 

He’s bigger than she’d assumed from his low position. He seems to take up too much space in the packed shop, all broad shoulders and swinging arms that brush against the potted plants. She takes an involuntary step back. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, moving the stool and equipment back behind the counter, and propping his hands on the bench between them. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

He smiles at her, something genuine and almost shy, and for some reason it burns on her skin like a warm bath. 

“You know that girl just left with like, fifty dollars’ worth of flowers, right?” Katniss says. 

“Oh.” The man says, and then shrugs, the movement staring at his neck and ending with a quick finger roll of his left hand, “they were for her grandmother.” 

Katniss narrows her eyes. It’s not this guy’s place to give away Haymitch’s stock like it’s nothing. She despises people like him, that don’t appreciate how hard it is to run a small business over the long term. And he looks like he wouldn’t get it, with his clean, dark jeans that fit too well and plaid button up shirt under the florist’s apron. 

“So how can I help you, Miss-“ he draws out the space behind the word miss, adds another charming smile to his attentive forward lean. 

“Everdeen.” She says. 

“Oh!” The guy’s eyes light up in recognition, “Katniss. Hi, I’m Peeta. I also go by the Moron, but that’s just on my email signature.” 

He reaches across the counter, extends his hand to her. She stares at it for second, flushing at his simple dismissal of her insult. He doesn’t look bothered at all. Something like amusement dances in his blue eyes the longer she sizes him up. Not wanting to give him any ground, she steps forwards and takes his hand. He gives her palm a gentle squeeze before releasing her hand. 

She can see why Haymitch would hire him. He’s attractive enough, broad features to match his shoulders but a boyishness around his eyes and overly large ears. He looks dependable, and eager, the kind of guy most women would want handing them flowers, and the kind of guy that would make them come back for more. 

“I’m here to see Haymitch.” Katniss asks shortly. “Also, get those daffodils off the front step.” 

“People like the daffodils,” Peeta crosses his arms across his chest, “they’re enticing.” 

Katniss tries to ignore the way his casual move causes his shirt to strain around his biceps, and rolls her eyes instead. 

“Yeah, people love dead flowers.” 

One of his eyebrows raises. 

“It’s too hot for them under the sun.” Katniss clarifies, like he’s a child. 

“Oh,” Peeta’s smile wilts like the daffodils, “I didn’t think of that.” 

Katniss’s poor opinion of him is growing by the minute. How to properly store and display flowers is just basic trade. Katniss steps towards the opening in the counter, intent on finding Haymitch and giving him her thoughts on his hiring practices. 

Peeta flips the swinging countertop down, blocking her path. She stares at him, incredulous, and a faint blush rises along the edges of his collar. 

“Sorry,” he says, “back is for staff only.” 

She can’t believe this cocky jerk. 

“When will he be back?” she asks through gritted teeth. 

“If it’s about the Undersee order, I called her back and sorted it.” Peeta says. “She’s happy to go with the original order, we’ve changed the arrangements, not the amounts of flowers.” 

“He lets you call clients?” Katniss asks. 

“He doesn’t ‘let’ me do anything,” Peeta says, “I’m running the place for a while.” 

“Running it into the ground, more likely.” Katniss retorts. 

She can’t believe Haymitch would change management without telling her. They’ve never been close, sure, neither of them could be considered the sharing type, but they went back a long way. Haymitch has given her first loan for upgrades on the greenhouse, when the banks refused. Prim had swept up the shop after school during her senior years, even doing her homework on the back counter those few months when Katniss was having trouble keeping up with the heating bills at home. Haymitch was kind of family, as much as he could be. 

Peeta exhales slowly through his nose. 

“I feel like we’ve kind of gotten off on the wrong foot-“ he starts. 

“Who are you, even?” Katniss interrupts. 

His brow creases, and he opens his mouth, like he’s going to introduce himself to her again. 

“Have Haymitch call me when he gets back in.” Katniss says, and turns to leave. She might yank the door open a little harder than necessary, causing the bell to tinkle wildly as she strides out to her truck. 

“Hey, Katniss, wait up.” Peeta’s voice calls out behind her, and the sound of him gently closing the front door behind himself. “Whoa, nice truck.” 

She pauses, already halfway into the cab. He doesn’t look like there’s a trace of sarcasm in the comment as he quickly runs his eyes over her vintage green farm truck. Her position standing on the sidebar making her a good head taller than him. She finds she likes the power imbalance as he’s force to tip his head back to look at her in the eye. 

“Haymitch isn’t going to be in for a while, so I think we should probably find a way to work together at least for now.” He says. 

“Where is he?” Katniss asks. 

“Personal leave.” Peeta says. 

“What for?” 

“I imagine something personal.” Peeta replies, so smoothly that Katniss almost believes for a second he doesn’t know, “Look, I don’t want to disrupt either of our businesses, so if you could give me some tips, I’d really appreciate it.” 

His face is open as he asks for her help, and she can’t quite believe he can ask for her advice on how to do his job and look so guileless about it. 

“Really doesn’t sound like my problem.” Katniss stands a little straighter, uses the full advantage of her artificial height. 

It doesn’t work, he just steps in closer, placing a hand right next to hers on the cab door. Close enough that she can feel the warmth of it. 

“Why’d you come into the shop today then?” he asks. “Friendly visit, I assume?” 

He suddenly seems much closer to her than he was before, squinting up at her, his long lashes catching the sunlight and throwing shadows down against his cheeks. Her eyes trace down his jaw, reflexively drop to his throat as he swallows. 

What is she doing? The thought comes at her and jolts her back into herself, her heart giving a half stutter to realise his face is alarmingly close. She ducks into the cab and starts up the engine, slamming the door on their conversation. 

“It’s floristry, Peeta, not rocket science.” 

She pretends she doesn’t see him staring after her truck as she leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays Melacka! I absolutely adore some of your works, so I hope you get some enjoyment out of this flipped version of your request! I actually have another flower shop AU for Peeta and Katniss, you can find it on my Tumblr! https://reachingforaspark.tumblr.com/post/187221590814/everlark-98
> 
> Also, I apologise for any flower inaccuracies, but also *shrug*


End file.
